


The Last Star Falling

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: The Black Donnellys
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-18
Updated: 2007-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irish funereal customs as seen through the eyes of Joey Ice Cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Star Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "The Fields of Athenry."
> 
> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works. 

The lucky thing for Tommy was that in the neighborhood there were a lot of wakes. Irish, you know? And Jenny, well, you got to pay your respects to the dead, right?

Who was he? Just some guy we all saw around, some guy who was in a car accident and died on the way to the hospital. Just some guy.

"He was more than some guy. He was somebody's son, somebody's husband. Somebody loved him."

She's feisty, that Jenny. Pure Irish down into her bones. The kind you don't argue with if you know what's good for you. But Tommy never really knew what was good for him, only what was good for his brothers. And for some reason Tommy didn't want Jenny hanging round the bar that day.

 

* * *

 

"You don't have to come, you don't have to do anything. You don't know him."

"I know his Ma, Tommy. And so do you. He wasn't just some guy."

"You don't need to do this."

"Yeah, I do." She slammed the tray of cookies down on the table then fussily straightened the tablecloth. "Help me or get out of the way."

 

* * *

 

He got out of the way. You don't mess with an Irish woman setting out food for a wake. You also don't try to take the food before she's ready for you to do that. Manners or something.

"What the hell, Joey! You think this is all for you?"  
"Jesus fuck, Jenny, you stuck a fork in my hand!"  
"Serves you right."

Still got a mark, see? She was pouring me a drink for my troubles when Tommy came back.

 

* * *

 

"Jimmy know you're behind his bar?"

"What Jimmy doesn't know." She put the drink down then pushed it near him. "Here. You need this more that him."

"Why?"

"Because Jimmy's downstairs. Drunk or high or half out of his mind on something."

"What else is new?"

"Drink." She waited until he had. "I saw your Ma today. She brought food."

"And?"

"She wasn't wearing her ring. She wouldn't say, but Jimmy left here earlier sober and poor, then came back high."

"Motherfucker! JIMMY!"

 

* * *

 

Nobody knows what happened, but later that day at the wake Jimmy had a fat lip, and when his Ma put her hand on it you could see her ring shining. I never told anybody what I heard coming from downstairs, neither did Jenny. Some things you don't talk about.

Tommy wouldn't'a known without Jenny. His Ma never woulda said and neither would Jimmy. You could see it, least we all could, how Tommy needed Jenny and how Jenny needed to do for Tommy. Jenny needed to do for everybody, pretty much, but more for Tommy. Lucky bastard.

 

* * *

 

"The widow okay?"

"Yeah." Jenny sat down and rested her head in her hands. "What'd you do to Jimmy?"

"You don't steal from family."

"I shouldn't have told you."

"But you did tell me." Tommy put his hand out then pulled it back, crumpling it tight on his lap, hiding the cuts. "What was I s'posed to do, Jenny?"

"Something other than that!"

 

* * *

 

Yeah, see, Jenny, she's always thinking there's something other than that you can do. Like Tommy was gonna ask Jimmy all nice to get his Ma's ring back and oh, by the way, help some nuns cross the street on your way home.

"Get the fuck outta here, Joey! Stop looking at us!"  
"Sorry, Tommy. Jenny."  
"Christ, what the fuck is he always doing here?"

He didn't hit me with the plate he threw or nothing, but that's when Jenny noticed his hand.

 

* * *

 

"You hurt your hand."

"Jimmy's got a hard head."

"He's a Donnelly."

"So'm I."

"That's my point." She dunked a paper napkin in her water and cleaned off his knuckles. "You're going to have to make a choice, Tommy."

 

* * *

 

Jenny was rubbing the blood right off his hand, just making these tiny, gentle strokes over the cut, and Tommy, well, he was staring at her like she was doing something nobody else could. His fingers were curling around hers and she was frowning, like the sight of that blood hurt her a little.

Tommy made his choice a long time ago, everybody knew that. The only thing we were waiting for was to see if he'd make it again.


End file.
